


Serendipity

by strawberryriver



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, akaashi centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:19:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7225864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryriver/pseuds/strawberryriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi has constant reminders and notes written all over his arms from his soulmate, it would be too easy to arrange a meeting. But he's a hopeless romantic at heart and wants to meet his soulmate organically, not through a date and time written in sharpie on his elbow. </p>
<p>Be careful what you wish for, Akaashi. </p>
<p>Soulmate AU in which things written on your skin show up on your soulmate. </p>
<p>-------</p>
<p>Akaashi knew more about his soulmate than he often cared to. The marks first appeared in high school, later than most of his classmates but before anyone started worrying. They were never anything of substance, at first it was homework, club reminders, or random dates and times not attached to anything. They were all written in different styles, so Akaashi couldn’t even tell which were from his roommate and which were from other people. He could only watch the letters and numbers seep into his skin with mild annoyance. What kind of person was his soulmate that they needed this many reminders, from this many people?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

Akaashi knew more about his soulmate than he often cared to. The marks first appeared in high school, later than most of his classmates but before anyone started worrying. They were never anything of substance, at first it was homework, club reminders, or random dates and times not attached to anything. They were all written in different styles, so Akaashi couldn’t even tell which were from his roommate and which were from other people. He could only watch the letters and numbers seep into his skin with mild annoyance. What kind of person was his soulmate that they needed this many reminders, from this many people? 

At first Akaashi tried to ignore the marks. Unfortunately they were all over, and in extremely visible places. It made sense for reminders, but it also drew constant attention from curious classmates and adults alike. Constant attention was not something Akaashi was used to, and he felt himself withering under the spotlight. By the time he finally responded to the marks he surprised even himself, he initially had no plan of using his skin to communicate with his soulmate. Though it seemed like they really needed some help, and Akaashi really wanted the questions to stop... 

_Please purchase a planner._

It wasn’t that Akaashi didn’t like the idea that he had a soulmate; he loved the idea. He loved reading the novels and advice columns centered around meeting and being with your soulmate, a person you were meant to mesh with so perfectly. He was a bit of a romantic about it. Or maybe he was a lot of a romantic, but that also meant he believed in meeting your soulmate organically. None of this “write a location on your arm to meet them” nonsense. It took the wonder, the magic, out of that moment. Akaashi wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that moment for him. 

Which is why he ignored the proceeding marks and exclamations from his soulmate. After the initial request to purchase a planner, he was bombarded with questions: his age, sports he played, what his favorite color and bird were. He steadfastly ignored them all, having his classmate check first to make sure nothing was a name before he read it. After an hour the questions tapered off and never appeared again. Much to Akaashi’s relief his soulmate didn’t share a name, nor did they list a location to meet. 

Nor did they go buy a planner. 

At times it was annoying, having his arms covered in someone else’s to-do list. It was clear that his soulmate, whoever they were, was extremely disorganized. Sometimes, Akaashi wondered if it was the universe’s idea of a joke. He himself had three planners: one he kept in his locker at school, one he kept on his desk at home, and one he carried with him just in case he was ever anywhere without the other two. His friends insisted it was overkill, but he felt much more secure if he could check where he needed to be and what he had to do at any given time in one convenient place. The idea of having half-hearted reminders scrawled into the crook of his elbow horrified him on a level he couldn’t explain without seeming overly controlling. He was not a control freak. 

The constant reminders did let him inadvertently learn things about his soulmate, however, and he couldn’t really hate that. He learned that his soulmate played sports, based on the “Practice @ 8” and “trnmnt tmrw be @ 4 am” that appeared in various scripts. He also appeared to be about the same age, based on the homework assignments and test dates that found their way onto Akaashi’s hands and wrists. His soulmate took his college entrance exams a year earlier than he did, though his goal numbers were much lower than Akaashi’s. Akaashi wondered if he was a poor student counting on something else to get him in. 

At times it was tough sticking to his “no contact” rule. It was arbitrary and self-imposed, but Akaashi felt it necessary to preserve their _wholly organic_ first meeting. Still, when things like tournaments popped up on his wrists it took everything he had not to scrawl “good luck” below the dates. At the same time, it also took everything he had to not correct his soulmate’s terrible spelling or rampant misuse of abbreviations. 

The scariest moments were when his soulmate was silent. Every now and then the writings would fade, as if scrubbed clean, and no new ones would appear. It typically only lasted a few days, but sometimes as long as a week. It was these times that Akaashi realized how attached he was to the markings, when they were gone his skin looked bare. He hoped it meant that his soulmate was just on vacation, somewhere he didn’t need any reminders or words of encouragement. A nagging feeling told him that that wasn’t the case, but he didn’t know his soulmate yet. 

Those times he would write small words of encouragement, just inside his wrist. It seemed innocent enough and if his soulmate needed help he wanted to provide it. Nothing to over the top or inflating, but just enough to hopefully make them smile if they needed to. 

The day of his soulmate’s graduation, Akaashi was absolutely covered in large, hasty writing. Rarely did his soulmate ever write notes to him, and he never responded, but on that day his heart nearly clenched in his effort to ignore the message that spread itself across his chest. Backwards, of course, so he had to read it in a mirror, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. 

_i graduated 2day!!!! im goin 2 uni!!!hope ur proud of me. congratz if u did 2!!!!_

Four exclamation points each time. Akaashi traced the words with his fingers for several minutes. He was committed to an organic, unexpected meeting. He wanted that more than he wanted anything else in his life. At the same time, he didn’t want to be cruel. His soulmate knew he saw these writings, and it was written in a private place. Somewhere that had to be added while alone, and where they knew Akaashi would find alone. Graduating was a big deal (even with their apparent terrible grades) and he was proud. He saw the schedule for tests and practices and make-up exams. They worked hard for this. They deserved at least something simple. 

_Congratulations. You did well._

Akaashi, satisfied with that, slipped his t-shirt on and went to bed. In the morning he woke up to twelve exclamation marks just below it. 

His own graduation was much quieter. His marks were good, but expected. The university he’d chosen was also good, but not as prestigious as some of the ones his mother had picked out. His grandparents came, everyone watched the ceremony, and then they had a quiet dinner. The day was without any pomp, save for the ceremony itself, and felt empty. He knew that everything he’d accomplished was expected and thus undeserving of extreme praise, but it also somehow felt empty to let the event pass without any recognition. 

By the time he had enough courage to pick up a marker, it was already well past 2 AM. His soulmate rarely ever wrote anything past 10, it was unlikely they would see it until morning. Still, he felt stifled from the normality of the whole day that he needed to tell someone, he needed to at least have one person be excited for him. 

_I graduated today._

It took him several more hours to fall asleep, but before he did he was greeted with sixteen exclamation points and a “CONGRATZ”. 

\-------

College was not quite what Akaashi had expected. He entered his first year with the intention of playing the “good son” and becoming a lawyer, but once he started actually taking preliminary law classes in his second semester he felt stifled. He dreaded to think of what actual law school would be like if the pre-law track was this horrible. That, paired with taking eighteen hours his first semester, left Akaashi with very little time to make friends or do anything other than study. Some days the closest thing to human interaction he had was listening to the guys down the hall complain as their roommate dragged them out for an early morning jog. Akaashi used it as a signal to go to bed. 

From his window he could see their practices. They played volleyball and he felt a little jealous, but he knew he wasn’t anywhere near good enough to get on the team; this school was famous for being a fast track to professional teams. Still, watching gave him a much needed break and it didn’t hurt that they were all extremely attractive. He liked watching the one with white hair the most; his arms were, in Akaashi’s opinion, a work of art. Plus he was constantly riling the others up and it was amusing. He could almost hear the laughter in his head, and more than once he caught himself wishing to hear it aloud. 

He never watched for long, guilt would quickly settle in his gut. It was no use pining after attractive athletes, he knew his soulmate was at least an athlete but he had no idea who or where, or what. There was no guarantee that his soulmate was down there, and honestly he felt like the man with white hair was far out of his league. Someone like that had probably already met their soulmate through sheer force of will. 

Halfway through the second semester, Akaashi hit his breaking point. He had three ( _three!_ ) tests in the coming week and he was so bored and overwhelmed from the material that he found himself on the verge of tears. He slammed all his books shut and went to sit outside, at the front of his building. It was the first time he’d been out in the sun for a reason other than school in two weeks, and the disgust made his skin crawl. This was not what he wanted. 

He hadn’t come to college to sit in his dorm room and do nothing but study. He wanted to make friends, meet people, maybe even join a photography club. He felt angry with himself and by extension his parents, it was their dream he was fulfilling and not his own. Akaashi felt a burning, restless desire to talk to someone, anyone, about his problems. He looked at his arms and considered, but in the end he decided that it was too much to write and he hated his own stupid idealism for not at least asking his soulmate for a number. In the end he resigned himself to watching the volleyball guys try to play ultimate frisbee and tracing the faded reminders on his arm. He stopped himself from wondering if the white haired one was good at listening before he even started. 

\-------

Akaashi did his best to finish up the classes he was already taking, even though he knew his GPA would take a hit, because if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a _quitter_. His mother would call it stubborn pettiness, but he didn’t care. He did choose to ignore studying on the weekends, opting instead to try his hand at parties. They were loud with too many people, but alcohol made it easier. He briefly wondered if he would meet his soulmate there, and he would ramble about it to anyone who would listen. Once in a drunken haze he had decorated his arms in questions, and when he woke the next morning, head pounding, he found that his soulmate had answered every single one. 

The next plan was to try his hands at the sciences. Akaashi found space beautiful and alluring; he wanted to learn everything there was to know and the general astronomy class he’d taken seemed easy enough. He often found himself turning his camera up at the night sky in an attempt to capture planets or constellations. More than once he considered asking for a lens add-on for christmas, so the dots would show more clearly. 

Everything started well. Akaashi found the content compelling and he was eager to learn everything there was. That is, until he realized that he would be taking a minimum of five physics classes of increasing difficulty. Theory flew over his head and he found himself struggling to follow even the basic mathematical concepts. His T.A. struggled to simplify the concepts enough and he was falling further and further behind in his classes.

For the second time in his life, Akaashi consciously considered writing to his soulmate. 

He knew, based on the schedule written into his arm for the first week of each semester, that his soulmate was in advanced math classes. No one took differential equations unless they had to, and no one reached that level without understanding some math. Akaashi sought out a thin marker buried in his desk and wrote on the underside of his arm, hoping his soulmate would see in time. 

_Are you good at math?_

Akaashi expected to have to wait a few hours for them to see and respond, but in moments the reply was bleeding across his skin.

_hey hey!!!! yea! do u need help?_

Akaashi smiled to himself, it somehow felt different knowing that the words on his arm were meant for him, rather than a side effect of a connection no one could really explain. For the first time since coming to college, Akaashi relaxed a little. He did have help, he could ask for it and someone would be there waiting. His _soulmate_ would be there. He could rely on them at least a little, without giving away information and ruining their meeting. 

_Yes please. I will write it out._

Akaashi surveyed his skin, looking for a place long enough to explain the problem that stumped him. He settled on his stomach, writing upside down so it would be easier to explain. Within ten minutes, much faster than he was expecting, the reply came across the top of his thigh. To his surprise his soulmate didn’t just give him the answer, but actively explained how he would go about solving it in much clearer terms than the foreign TA in charge of his class ever had. They spent a total of twenty minutes writing and working on the problem and once Akaashi was done he was left with not only a better understanding of physics, but also a second kernel of affection for his soulmate. Now alongside “disorganized” he could add “helpful” to his soulmate’s list of traits.

\-------

By the time Keiji left his first year of college, he’d changed majors three times. Astrology clearly wasn’t working, and now he was sitting on a firm “undecided”. Phone calls to his parents were becoming increasingly more stilted and uncomfortable as he expertly dodged questions about his classes and plans for next year. Next year he was taking primarily journalism courses, a few on writing and a few on photography. The course load was much lighter than he’d had in his first year and he was relieved. He actually enjoyed photography, though he was reluctant to admit that to his traditionalist parents. 

As Akaashi packed up his room to go home for the summer, he felt dread settle in the pit of his stomach. He’d used the distance from his parents as a way to avoid confronting them, but that wouldn’t be possible for much longer. His father had been angry that he wasn’t going to be a lawyer like the rest of his family, but his mother managed to quell that with talks of Akaashi being a scientist, which was just as respectable. 

He hadn’t yet told them he’d quit that too. 

It wasn’t that Akaashi liked be a quitter. He hated it. It frustrated him to no end that he didn’t have a direction in his college career, but it was even more frustrating being bombarded with unwelcome suggestions by everyone in his immediate family. He had passion, of course, photography, art, but none of those would be acceptable career choices for his parents. He had to pick something that would make the family look good. 

As Akaashi waited for his parents car to arrive he watched the volleyball team play a pickup game on the lawn between the dorms. He could hear the white haired man’s laughter and it made him smile for just a brief second. Akaashi was jealous of them, they at least had club activities. Friends to look forward to. He wondered if he would be allowed to take photos of their games if he joined the newspaper. It wasn’t difficult for him to make friends in general, but when you devote yourself to studying and nothing else, it becomes impossible.

Akaashi was snapped out of his thoughts when the familiar gleam of his parents car showed in his periphery. His mother gave him a hug, already bombarding him with questions about his semester and classes while his father loaded the car. Akaashi felt the dread spread from the pit of his stomach to his throat, how would he field all these questions the entire ride home? Once the car was in motion and there was no running away, Akaashi cleared his throat. 

“I’m not studying astronomy anymore.” Akaashi said, casting his eyes down and away so he wouldn’t have to see his parents’ faces in the rearview mirror. 

“What?” His mother asked, the first to break the heavy silent seconds. She’d spent weeks convincing his father that science was just as respectable and it was impossible to crush the guilt he felt for letting her actions go to waste. 

“I’m not really a math person.” Akaashi said slowly, realizing now that he didn’t really have a reason other than “it was hard and I didn’t like it”. 

“It’s not like you to give up because something is hard!” His mother said, turning in her seat. Akaashi pointedly continued refusing to look at her. His mind was made up, he couldn’t take any more physics. He hated giving up and he knew the look on her face would just be a punch to the gut. 

“What will you do now?” His father asked, and Akaashi could feel his cold gaze through the mirror.

“I’m undecided. I don’t know.” Akaashi said, willing this uncomfortable conversation to be over. Unfortunately, his father lectured about responsibility and respectability for ten minutes, getting increasingly louder until his mother placed her hand on his arm and they all fell into silence. What a perfect start to the summer. 

Akaashi spent the summer in his room or outside, doing his best to avoid his parents. As soon as he stepped foot at home his father told him that he fully expected Akaashi to get a job, especially since he’d decided to slack off at school. Rather than argue with his father, Akaashi bowed his head and made his way towards the convenience store he’d frequented as a high schooler. The owner knew him well enough and was more than willing to give him a part time position running the store at night. His father grumbled but Akaashi had technically filled his request, and they largely left each other alone. 

Unfortunately for Akaashi the night shift offered no distractions. Hardly anyone needed a convenience store late at night, and his arms and stomach served as a constant reminder of summer. His soulmates school schedule was replaced with training camps, plans to hang out, and numbers for people Akaashi didn’t know. Akaashi couldn’t help but feel a little jealous, his soulmate was not only disorganized and helpful, they were also apparently approachable and social. While it wasn’t uncommon to date before meeting your soulmate, it still soured him a little to think about someone else giving their number to the person that was supposed to be most suited for him. 

It was in one of these fits of jealousy that Akaashi picked up his marker.

_What’s your major?_ It was such a horrible, boring topic that Akaashi immediately regretted writing it on his skin. He briefly considered playing it off as someone else writing on him, but the answer came faster than Akaashi’s hand could move. 

_accounting!!!!!!!!_ Akaashi admired his dedication to manually writing out each exclamation point. _but im gonna b a star player!!!_

He knew, of course, that his soulmate had been in sports for at least as long as their connection, and college sports wasn’t something done lightly. With all the time spent practicing, it was a reasonable goal. He considered asking more, it couldn’t hurt to know which sport, there were so many sports that so many people played. Plus, the speed at which his soulmate answered told him he was probably by himself. They could at least keep each other company. 

_Which sport?_

_volleyball!!!!_

Akaashi paused, watching “volleyball” bleed into his arm. He’d played volleyball too, and while he knew for sure none of his teammates were his soulmate, he may have played against them. Then again, he knew his soulmates whole schedule, they’d never had a corresponding game. Even their tournaments had been at different times. Maybe they were a girl, or were in a different bracket. 

Akaashi knew he should stop here. He was still holding on to the romantic notion of just bumping into his soulmate one day by chance. Yet, the longer he started at the endless enthusiasm of five exclamation points, he found himself compelled to keep talking to his soulmate. He wasn't ready for their conversation to be over. 

_I played too._

_no way!!!!!!_

Six exclamation points. Akaashi smiled to himself. Unfortunately, he wasn’t good enough at small talk and had no idea how to continue the conversation. He was going end their conversation there, but more words bleeding into his skin stopped him from putting his marker away. 

_i play in college 2 nw w my bro im rly good!!! im the ace!!!!!_

The ace. They were likely a wing spiker then, and probably a handful. Still, the enthusiasm was endearing, they were probably fun to play with. Akaashi sought out a spare patch of skin not covered his soulmates large, messy handwriting. 

_I was a setter._

In a way, Akaashi regretted talking to his soul mate so much. Now he knew that every single time he saw a volleyball player he would look and wonder. _No,_ Akaashi thought, _that’s not quite right._ The volleyball player would have to be good, excitable, smart. With how good he was at math he must surely be a natural tactician on the court. Maybe even a captain. Or maybe not, given how unreliable he seemed based on the numerous reminders Akaashi carried with him every day. His mind was drawn to the white haired man at his college. He was certainly loud and excitable, but he probably wasn’t the captain. There were plenty of reliable people on that team. 

And it was difficult to believe someone like that would be interested in him. 

\-------

Akaashi’s second semester was easier. His roommate was quiet, studying computer programming. They talked just enough to know that they were the same age, that his name was Kenma, and that he liked playing video games, but he didn’t pry too much. It seemed that he too hadn’t met his soulmate, and that was comforting to Akaashi. In times when he felt silly or selfish for holding on to such a romantic notion he could remind himself that Kenma also hadn’t bothered to meet up with his soulmate, and they both also seemed fine with that. 

Their dorm was once again next to the practice courts and occasionally Kenma would catch Akaashi watching. He always claimed it was for class, but didn’t miss the intent behind Kenma’s gaze and quiet hum. Akaashi thanked anyone he could that Kenma wasn’t the teasing type. 

Akaashi also found he enjoyed his classes. For once he wasn’t overwhelmed and disinterested, he was engaged and had settled on majoring in journalism with an emphasis on photography. He hadn’t told his parents, but they would have to get over it. He actually enjoyed his third semester at college and when he met with his faculty adviser before break his choice to continue felt obvious.

\-------

Towards the end of his second fall semester Akaashi woke up with nothing on his arms. Not even the inside crook of his elbow. It was as if overnight someone had scrubbed the remaining reminders from his skin and left him with a painfully empty canvas. It seemed intentional. While the markings had been fading over the past few days, to have them all suddenly gone was startling and Akaashi couldn’t help but feel worried. 

All day he went to his classes, checking his arms, stomach, or legs for any signs of something. They had never faded this extremely before, even when his soulmate seemed down. At dinner Kenma finally passed Akaashi a marker from his bag, fed up with Akaashi’s constant fidgeting. 

Are you okay? Akaashi carefully penned just inside his wrist. Surely they would see it and reply soon, they always replied quickly when Akaashi initiated messages.

Hours passed. 

Kenma eventually kicked Akaashi out of the dorm room, instructing him to go for a walk. Akaashi agreed Kenma had a point, he was irritatingly restless. All of his limbs felt like they would ignite if he weren’t moving and it was hard to stay focused on any one thing for long. It had been a couple of years since he’d gone on a real run, not since high school, and now it seemed like he needed the crisp night air to fill his lungs and shake loose the anxiety that gripped him. 

By the time he got back to the dorm he was sweaty and tired but less restless. Four exclamation points had appeared under his message on his wrist and he felt relieved. If nothing else, they were well enough to write and they still seemed enthusiastic. It wasn’t the explanation he was hoping for, but it was something. When he got to the bathroom to shower he discovered that, along with the exclamation marks, a message was written as largely as possible across his chest. 

_WE WON!!!!_

Akaashi smiled and traced the letters, some kind of sporting event then. He hadn’t seen any reminders for tournaments on his arms, but if it was a large enough event he doubted they would need one. Either way he was relieved, his soulmate was apparently fine, and had won something large. Akaashi felt a surge of pride in his chest and as the shower steam covered the mirror he wrote one more reply on his inner wrist. 

_Good job._

\-------

Akaashi had always dreamed of meeting his soulmate through serendipity. He’d seen all the movies, read all the books. He fantasised about bumping into them in the coffee shop, brushing by them on the subway, reaching for the same book in the library. He thought a lot about how he might meet his soulmate, what they might say, what they might look like. He found himself checking the arms and wrists of strangers he met, looking for reminders and doodles drawn into their skin. 

What he never considered was getting nailed in the face with a frisbee. Akaashi often took his walks to class as a time to think about his week, his soulmate, a game Kenma was playing. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hear the warning shouts, until he heard a sickening crack, and a sharp pain radiated from his forehead down to the bridge of his nose.

“Dude!! Dude sorry! We yelled to duck!” A voice yelled, but Akaashi was too focused on the throbbing pain in his forehead and the blood pouring from his nose to notice who. 

“Dude, you broke his nose.” Another voice said, slightly more calm than the first. 

“I didn’t mean to! Listen! I’ll take you to the campus clinic, okay?! Please don’t sue me!!” This person was impossibly loud and with the pain already throbbing in his head, Akaashi knew he wasn’t far away from a headache. 

“You’re too loud.” He said, words garbled by the blood mixing in his mouth. 

“Sorry!” They shouted, and then slapped their own mouth. “Sorry.” The voice quieted down significantly; “Shit you’re bleeding so much, here.” Cloth was shoved in Akaashi’s blurred line of vision and he took it, holding it up to his nose while he kept his head bent forward. 

“Lemme take you to the med clinic, okay!” They said, and Akaashi nodded, already walking in what he thought was the direction of the clinic. His nose would be bleeding for at least a few more minutes and it would be helpful to have someone there who could help him sign in. 

“Who are you?” Akaashi asked, doing his best to make his words sound normal despite the near unbearable pain in his nose. 

“Ah! Uh! Bokuto Koutarou! I’m really sorry we hit you we were playing frisbee and I missed the throw-” Bokuto started rambling, voice gaining volume. Akaashi help up his free hand to stop Bokuto before his voice got too loud and made the pain worse. 

“It’s fine. The bleeding will stop.” Akaashi said, though it was more for Bokuto’s benefit. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who could take someone being mad at him. 

“Right, yeah! Still! It’s gotta hurt right? I’m really sorry!!” Bokuto said. Akaashi sighed, keeping his head down. In truth, it did hurt. A lot. His nose was almost certainly broken, and he didn’t know how long it would take to heal.

“It hurts a great deal, near unbearable.” Akaashi said, he knew it was rude to point out the obvious but Bokuto’s distraught wail made him feel at least a little better. He seemed genuinely sorry and Akaashi was fine with letting him beg for forgiveness the rest of the way to the clinic. At least there Bokuto was helpful, explaining the situation and helping Akaashi back towards an examination room to be seen by the on-call nurse. 

By the time he was seated on an examination table the bleeding had subsided a significant amount and Akaashi felt safe enough to finally draw the cloth away from his face. 

“Thank you for letting me borrow your, ah…” Akaashi looked at the cloth in his hands, vision still a little too blurry from dried tears to confirm what he was seeing.

“My shirt!” Bokuto chirped, seeming unperturbed that Akaashi had bled all over his clothing. 

“Ah. I’m sorry.” Akaashi held the shirt out for Bokuto to take, remembering at least some of the manners his mother had taught him. Bokuto took the shirt, and Akaashi took the temporary silence to examine his attacker. Embarrassed, he realized that Bokuto was the volleyball player he frequently watched and ducked his head, hoping to either hide the blush creeping up his neck or blame it somehow on the broken nose. Fortunately for him, Bokuto hadn’t commented on it. Unfortunately for him, Bokuto hadn’t commented on _anything_ , and Akaashi could feel his intense gaze. 

“...Yes?” Akaashi said, hoping to break the silence that was quickly becoming suffocating. 

“Yes! So...uh…” Bokuto startled, he had clearly been lost in thought and Akaashi interrupted him. 

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi continued, suddenly feeling uneasy by the shift in tone and atmosphere. 

“You play volleyball?” Bokuto asked and Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s eyes on him. Even without seeing it he knew the gaze was intense. 

“What do you mean?” It was a strange out-of-place question; Akaashi wondered if he was just trying to lighten the mood. 

“You’ve got, like. On your arm. I saw it when you got up on the table. A tournament tomorrow. There’s a practice one for volleyball and I wondered-” Bokuto rambled, sounding sheepish. Akaashi turned slightly to look at him and Bokuto’s gaze had dropped to the floor as he toyed with the bloodied shirt in his hands. 

“Ah, no. Those are my soulmate’s. They play, and apparently use their arm as their own personal planner.” Akaashi interrupted, it was rude to cut Bokuto off but he was used to explaining all the reminders for things that weren’t his on his arm. It was his natural response, and usually led him to think about his soulmate and what they might be doing. This time, Bokuto’s loud wail ripped Akaashi from his thoughts before he could even begin to wonder about his soulmate. Akaashi snapped his head up in alarm, causing him to groan as more pain to shot through his nose. Akaashi cradled his nose in his hand and waited for Bokuto to continue his latest thought. 

“No! I’m the worst the absolute worst!” Bokuto wailed again, dropping his bloodied shirt and falling to his knees on the floor. “I can’t believe I did that! I’m terrible!” 

“Bokuto-san, what’s wrong?” Akaashi studied Bokuto on the floor, worried about the sudden reaction. Slowly, Bokuto stood and held out his arms for Akaashi to see clearly. Covering them, elbows to wrists, were the same reminders in the same messy handwriting Akaashi had bore almost all his life. 

“I broke my soulmate’s nose.” Bokuto sniffed, tears in his eyes. Akaashi opted not to answer, instead studying Bokuto’s arms as the revelation slowly sunk in. The excitable ramblings, the easy distractibility, the eagerness to help. They were all traits that fit both Bokuto and what he knew about his soulmate. This wasn’t how Akaashi had wanted their fated meeting to happen, but looking at Bokuto he couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. Finally, Akaashi steadily met Bokuto’s eager gaze. 

“You need to buy a planner.” Akaashi ignored Bokuto’s second wail and went back to delicately holding his nose. “I thought you were the ‘sports master’, in your own words.” Talking was getting easier, and for someone who talked a lot about being great at sports, you’d have to be a terrible aim to nail someone so thoroughly, unintentionally.

“Well…” Bokuto fell back into the chair, breaking eye contact with Akaashi in embarrassment. “I got distracted by you. ‘Cause you’re so pretty and I wanted to talk to you but then I felt bad because you probably weren’t my soulmate ‘cause you’re so pretty and then I started thinkin’ about my soulmate and lookin’ at you and Kuroo yelled for me to throw the frisbee so I did-” 

“While you were looking at me.” Akaashi said, smiling despite himself. No wonder the frisbee nailed him with such force. 

“Yeah! I’m really sorry, uh...what’s your name?” 

“Keiji. My name is Akaashi Keiji.” 

\-------

“Koutarou, please calm down.” Akaashi took the box from his fiance’s waving hands. It was heavier than expected but Akaashi was too worried about the smirking grin of the man across from him to think about it.

“Kuroo-san, please do not break my camera. You’re holding it incorrectly and it’s very expensive.” Akaashi set the box on his lap and reached for the camera, only to be interrupted by a loud whine from Bokuto. 

“Keiji!! The camera’s fine, open your anniversary gift!” Bokuto said. He had made a far bigger deal out of their fifth anniversary and wedding party than Akaashi ever would have, but it was fine because Bokuto made a big deal about everything. It was simultaneously endearing and draining. 

“Fine. I’m opening my gift.” With one last pointed look at Kuroo and his camera, Akaashi carefully popped open the seams of the wrapping paper and set it aside. He was intentionally taking longer than normal to open his gift specifically because Bokuto was trying to hard to rush him. He could hear the click of his camera going off as he opened the top of the box, likely to be sure to capture his exact emotions when he saw it. The gift. 

The neon yellow, hard plastic frisbee sitting innocently in a bed of tissue paper. Akaashi slowly looked up at Bokuto who was beaming wildly, clearly extremely proud of himself. 

“Happy anniversary Keiji!” He said, obviously enjoying his clever gift. Akaashi didn’t bother with a one-liner or rebuttal, he knew his own gift would more than pay Bokuto back for his generous reminder. He motioned for Bokuto to open his gift, and Bokuto excitedly tore into the packaging, slowing only once the present was in view. Akaashi leaned over and took the camera from Kuroo, wanting to get the perfect picture when Bokuto slowly held up a large, leather bound book, looking as if he were on the verge of tears. 

A planner.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished this!!! and in time for my birthday lol thank you for being patient & for reading! 
> 
> come yell at me on my [tumblr](http://strawberryriver.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/keiji_ebooks)!!
> 
> if you request a pairing/prompt in my ask box i'll probably write it


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